


diplopia

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Evil Clone, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 07:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Something’s not right with Nakamaru, but Kame’s not about to kick him out of bed.





	diplopia

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for je_fqfest 2012.

Kame doesn’t even remember giving anyone else a key to his hotel room. He hasn’t had to share in years, each of the members getting their own room for a while now, and Kame’s glad for it – KAT-TUN definitely gets along better when they don’t share living space.

“Kazuya,” someone whispers, and there’s nothing identifiable about it.

Squinting in the darkness, Kame can make out a tall frame, which rules out Koki and Ueda. Kame wouldn’t put it past Taguchi to sweet-talk the front desk for a replacement key, and he’s about to give the first T a piece of his mind until the silhouette turns and there’s no doubt to whom that nose belongs.

“Nakamaru?” Kame mumbles, his voice thick with sleep, as he leans up onto his elbows. “Is everything okay?”

“When did you stop calling me by my given name?” Nakamaru asks, still whispering despite them being the only two in the room. “Did we grow apart as we grew older?”

“What? Naka- Yuichi, no,” Kame rushes to say, eyes wide as he tries to make out Nakamaru’s face. “Are you sleepwalking?”

“If I was, would it be okay for me to be here?”

Kame blinks in frustration, unable to focus on the dark hollow of Nakamaru’s face, and he makes sure the covers are pulled up around his waist before patting the bed next to him. “Come here.”

He watches Nakamaru step towards him, looking a little robotic, and Kame’s no longer confident that the oldest member  _isn’t_  sleepwalking. Carefully he sits on the bed, smoothing out the covers underneath him like he is incapable of laying on any wrinkles, and turns onto his side to face Kame.

“I’m going to pinch you,” Kame tells him, “to wake you up.”

Nakamaru just stares at him, his face still unreadable even though Kame can clearly see his features now, and Kame takes that as permission. He takes the skin along the underside of Nakamaru’s arm between his finger and thumb, watching his face as he snaps. A faint wince and Nakamaru pulls his arm back, cradling it to his chest.

“Are you awake now?” Kame asks.

“I was never asleep, Kazuya.”

Kame reaches out to him, trailing fingers along the soft skin of his face, at least until his jaw where a bit of stubble has started to grow. Nakamaru tilts his head to nuzzle Kame’s palm, reminding Kame of his dogs, except that this type of affection is only between humans.

“All those times you tried to kiss me,” Nakamaru says, a rich depth in his voice, and Kame feels it in his fingers. “There’s no camera now, but do you still want to?”

“Yuichi…” Kame says slowly, so overcome by shock and disbelief that there’s no room for ‘no’. It’s no secret that he prefers men, though his fanservice with Nakamaru had been exactly that – fanservice. Despite that, he’s always wondered what those thick lips taste like.

Nakamaru has his head propped up on his arm, face void of any kind of reaction, and with Kame’s hand on his face it only takes a few scoots to close the distance between them. Kame’s breath hitches as their lips meet and Nakamaru takes over, kissing him from every angle before licking the seam. Kame’s mouth opens obediently, a faint moan clouding his mind as their tongues touch and Kame vaguely registers his body being lowered down to the bed.

A hand slides down his side, not stopping at the covers and continuing down to his hip and thigh, and Nakamaru groans as he learns that Kame is completely unclothed. Kame bends his knee and Nakamaru urges it to spread open, fingers gradually drifting up the inside of Kame’s thigh to where he’s quickly hardening from the seduction. But Nakamaru bypasses his groin and moves up to his abs, tracing the muscles all the way up his chest as Kame’s body rocks in denial.

“Tease,” Kame mutters between kisses, and Nakamaru’s chuckle sounds sinister.

“I feel overdressed,” Nakamaru says, and Kame’s fingers go straight for the collar. Nakamaru  _would_  wear a bowtie to bed, which Kame easily unclips and places to the side before slipping the shirt buttons through their holes one by one. His mouth falls from Nakamaru’s to press wet lips to each inch of skin as it’s exposed, smiling when Nakamaru’s stomach concaves under his touch, and he lingers at the patch of hair right above his belt buckle before popping back up to his mouth.

Now Nakamaru growls into their kiss, reaching behind him to help Kame shove his shirt off of his shoulders until Nakamaru’s chest is completely bared for his perusal. And peruse he does, hand splaying over pectorals and abdominals, then sliding back up to shoulders and biceps. They continue down the backside, squeezing shoulder blades and hips before dipping down to grope Nakamaru’s firm ass, which brings him closer to Kame and pulls a low groan from his throat.

His fingers land on Nakamaru’s belt and as much as he wants to drag this out, he rushes to unbuckle it and move on to the button and zipper. He has a passing thought to why Nakamaru is completely dressed in the middle of the night, but then Nakamaru’s hand is dropping back between his legs and the thought is gone. One lone finger trails up the length of his cock and Kame moans, shoving down Nakamaru’s pants in a fit of frustration until the only thing between them is Kame’s sheet.

Kame curls his fingers around Nakamaru’s cock, thick and hard, and Nakamaru’s next groan tickles his tongue. Then Nakamaru’s hand is around him and they’re both kicking at the sheet, clawing to get closer, and Kame’s not sure whether he’s the one pulling Nakamaru or if Nakamaru does it himself, only that Nakamaru’s body is stretching out on top of him and Kame’s thighs fall open to permit him between them.

“Kazuya,” Nakamaru whispers, gasping when Kame thumbs the head of his cock. “Where’s your lube?”

“In my bag on the floor,” Kame answers immediately, a shameful whine bubbling up in his throat when Nakamaru lets go of him to retrieve it, but he’s back before the noise can meet the air. Kame’s knees automatically lift to his chest, offering all of himself to Nakamaru, who growls again as he coats his fingers and eases them inside, one after the other.

“Tell me you want it,” Nakamaru says, and it’s so rough and demanding that Kame rushes to comply.

“I want it,” and Nakamaru replaces his fingers with his cock, thrusting through the tight resistance of Kame’s body until he’s buried to the hilt. “ _Yuichi._ ”

Nakamaru groans into Kame’s mouth, attacking him with searing kisses as he pounds into him. He loops his arms around Kame’s knees and holds him down, spreading him open even wider, and Kame struggles to breathe as Nakamaru hits his prostate and doesn’t stop. There’s nothing slow and sensual about this tryst and Kame loves it, arches into it as his hips snap up in tandem. He can’t stop moaning, clinging to Nakamaru’s back with both hands, and it only gets louder when Nakamaru’s hand returns to his cock.

Words are impossible right now, let alone a warning, but Nakamaru seems to sense Kame’s orgasm coming and fucks him harder. Kame feels like his world explodes from the force of it, Nakamaru’s groan ringing in his ears as he follows right behind, and everything moves in slow motion as they come down.

He has so many questions, but Nakamaru pulls him into his arms and Kame can’t bring himself to voice any. Nakamaru falls asleep first, his even breathing loud enough to be a faint snore, and Kame thinks it’s the perfect lullaby.

But in the morning, Nakamaru is gone.

—–

Kame’s not sure how to react. Concerts are serious business, but so is sex, at least to him. Kame doesn’t give himself to just anyone. He knows that Nakamaru’s not the type of guy to just sleep with someone and ignore them the next day, but that’s exactly what he’s doing, offering Kame a casual wave as he continues reading the paper before morning rehearsal.

Nakamaru’s also not the type of guy to come to someone’s room in the middle of the night for sex, but that’s what he did. For a brief, shining moment, Kame considers the possibility that he’d dreamt the whole thing, and then he moves and the faint soreness he feels is very, very real.

“You okay?” Koki asks, scooting closer as he chows down on his breakfast. “You look sad.”

Sweet Koki. Always concerned. “I’m fine,” Kame tells him, offering a smile, and Koki buys it. “Just tired.”

“Eat, Kazuya,” Koki says firmly, and Kame automatically reaches for a muffin even though he’s not hungry. He knows better with these guys. “We still have a couple weeks of shows. You have to keep your genki levels high!”

Kame laughs in spite of himself and gnaws off a giant bite of muffin to appease the other man. Satisfied, Koki grins and trots off to bother Taguchi, who happily welcomes the interruption. Kame’s not convinced that there isn’t something going on between those two, something much like what happened between himself and Nakamaru last night, but they don’t seem keen on sharing. And, to be completely honest, Kame doesn’t want to know. Whatever makes them happy, Kame supports.

Sneaking a glance towards an unsuspecting Nakamaru, Kame wonders when he’ll get his chance to be happy. He hadn’t thought about Nakamaru like that before the oldest member had invited himself into his bed, and now he can’t think of anything else. He recalls how those hands had touched him, the noises pressed into his skin and the way he’d felt moving inside him. They’ve known each other for over ten years – they’re well beyond regular friends. Now that they’d taken their relationship to the utmost level, Kame doesn’t think they can go back.

“So,” he says later, catching Nakamaru between sets. “Last night, huh?”

“Last night was crazy,” Nakamaru says, and Kame feels his face lighting up with hope. “The crowd was so insane. I felt like I was dancing on air.”

Kame’s face falls just as fast as it had risen. “You don’t remember…”

“Remember what?” Nakamaru’s not looking at him, wiping the sweat off of his face, and Kame resists the urge to help him. “Did it storm last night?”

“You… came to my room,” Kame says slowly. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What? No.” Nakamaru lowers the towel and gives Kame a confused look. “I went right to sleep when we got back to the hotel. I actually fell asleep reading one of the books for my thesis. I woke up with it on my nose.”

Kame blinks. Nakamaru is many things, but a good liar is not one of them. It’s one of his most admirable qualities.

“Did someone come to your room last night, Kazuya?” Nakamaru asks, suddenly concerned. He and Koki are alike that way.

“Must have been a dream,” Kame says, forcing a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Dreaming about me now?” Nakamaru elbows Kame teasingly. “All that fanservice is going to your head.”

Kame scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

But still he wonders.

——

“You’re not real,” he greets his late-night visitor. “You’re not Yuichi.”

“What? Of course I am,” Nakamaru replies, standing affronted with his hands on his hips. “Don’t I look like me?”

This time Kame turns the light on, and there he is plain as day. The same Nakamaru who had shown Kame such a blank face earlier. “Why did you lie to me?”

“Do you want this to get out?” Nakamaru asks as he slowly approaches Kame’s bed. “You don’t know who’s listening in the daylight, Kazuya. Junno and Koki have been fucking for  _years_  and still won’t admit it to me.  _Me_. I’m their third!”

This definitely sounds like the Nakamaru Kame knows. Carefully, he lowers his guard. “What are we doing?”

“Right now? Nothing,” Nakamaru answers, the corners of his lips turning up into a sly smile as he sits gingerly on the edge of the bed and scoots closer to Kame. “But I plan on changing that.”

A protest forms on Kame’s tongue, but Nakamaru beats him to it. His kiss is just as enticing as Kame remembers it, if not more controlling, but Kame doesn’t mind laying back and letting Nakamaru ravish him. This time Nakamaru kisses his way down Kame’s neck and torso, bringing the sheet with him, and he doesn’t stop when he reaches Kame’s waist.

“Oh god,” Kame breathes, his fingers flying to Nakamaru’s hair at the first flick of a tongue on the head of his cock. “ _Yuichi._ ”

“Consider this an apology for earlier,” Nakamaru mumbles, speaking into Kame’s sensitive skin, and all Kame can do is nod his acceptance. His back arches as Nakamaru takes him all the way in, swallowing around his length, and all that comes out of Kame’s mouth is nonsensical garbling as he rakes his fingers through Nakamaru’s hair and gently thrusts deeper.

“Yuichi,” Kame manages to articulate, his breathing becoming more raspy as Nakamaru brings him closer to release. “Fuck, so good.”

Nakamaru accompanies his efforts with a smug hum, which stimulates Kame even more. His hand tightens in Nakamaru’s hair and Nakamaru takes that as a sign to back off, sucking on the head and licking the knot underneath until Kame’s resolve is shattered by orgasm. While he’s recovering, he feels Nakamaru’s lips on his body, working their way back up, and they’re kissing again before Kame even regains control of his mind.

“Did you like that?” Nakamaru whispers against his lips, and Kame nods. “I’m glad.”

“Let me return the favor,” Kame says, still a bit out of it, but naturally Nakamaru doesn’t argue, just rolls onto his back, gazing fondly down at Kame as the latter opens his pants. He doesn’t bother with the shirt this time; too much effort.

He sucks Nakamaru’s cock past his lips before it’s even exposed, swirling his tongue around the head as he tugs down enough clothes to suffice. Nakamaru feels so good in his mouth, so hard and responsive, and his little moans drift down to Kame’s ears as the sheets on either side of them scrunch in Nakamaru’s fists. Kame lifts his hands and covers Nakamaru’s with his, slowly easing his fingers open and lacing them with his own, accepting the tight squeezes of tension as Kame takes in as much as he can and moves his head back and forth.

“Yeah, Kazu,” Nakamaru mutters, his voice low and filthy, and Kame sucks harder. “Mm, just like that.”

Kame’s no stranger to following directions, though he abandons one of Nakamaru’s hands to reach between his legs and roll his balls in his palm. Nakamaru moans louder and replaces Kame’s hand with his hair, twisting the strands in his fingers hard enough to feel good. He’s about to fall apart and Kame can sense it, feeling Nakamaru’s thighs tremble under his arms until he pulses in Kame’s mouth, moaning out loud as he comes.

Kame drinks him down, letting his softening length fall from his lips as he rests his head on Nakamaru’s thigh while he rides out his orgasm. At least until Nakamaru pulls on his hair pointedly, making Kame’s eyes roll back into his head as he lifts himself up Nakamaru’s body and returns to his mouth.

“Stay with me,” Kame whispers, and Nakamaru wraps his arms around him.

“I can’t stay all night. You know that.” Nakamaru looks apologetic, as least as apologetic as he can look with a completely relaxed expression, and Kame understands a little too well. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

“I suppose that will have to do,” Kame says, but he fights for as long as he can consciously kiss Nakamaru before succumbing to slumber.

—–

As they near the end of the tour, Kame wonders what will happen when it’s over. It’s easier than he had expected to act like nothing’s going on between them during the day, mostly because Nakamaru does it well enough for both of them. It’s exactly like it was before Nakamaru started coming to his room nearly every night for sex. There’s not even a hint of attraction from the other man, which has always just made it more fun to torment him on stage, but now it feels like a slap in the face.

“I feel like a whore,” he confesses one night, and Nakamaru distracts him once again.

He makes it until the last stop, only three shows left. He can’t take anymore of this double life. While the others are getting acquainted with the new set, Kame lures Nakamaru into a private room. Nakamaru still looks lost even when the door is closed, and Kame has had it.

“Drop the act,” he says firmly. “We’re alone now.”

“Drop what act?” Nakamaru asks. “What’s going on with you? This is the second time you’ve acted like I’m supposed to know some kind of secret.”

Something inside Kame crashes; he wonders if it was his heart. “You’re really standing there and pretending to know nothing.”

“It’s not pretending,” Nakamaru replies, his eyes narrowing like he’s starting to get angry. “I honestly do not know what you’re implying. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“Never mind,” Kame says, heading for the door. “Never fucking mind.”

He’s grabbed by the shoulder and pinned against the wall, Nakamaru’s eyes hard and soft at the same time. “Kazuya, I’m worried about you. Tell me what you think I should know so we can figure this out, okay?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that you come to my room every night,” Kame growls, his stare just as fierce. “And don’t tell me it’s a goddamn dream, because I am very aware of what happens to my body.”

Abruptly Nakamaru’s hold loosens, and he takes a step back. “Are you fucking with me?”

“You’re the one fucking with me,” Kame replies, holding his stare. “Or just fucking me, pick one.”

“I…” Nakamaru pauses, breathing heavily like he’s about to hyperventilate. “I’ve never touched you. At least I don’t think I have. Oh god, am I sleepwalking? Wouldn’t I know if I, you know, was intimate like that?”

Kame’s rage dissipates as he watches Nakamaru fret helplessly. It’s then that he believes the other man has absolutely no clue what he’s been doing these past few weeks. “Yuichi, calm down.”

“You’re calling me Yuichi again,” Nakamaru says, smiling despite himself.

Now Kame is creeped out. “You asked me to the first night. Quite passive-aggressively, I might add.”

“Okay.” Nakamaru holds his hands palms-out, like everything will stop from that action alone. “This is what we’re going to do. Don’t… don’t let me do that anymore. Push me away. Tell me to leave. Hit me if you have to.”

Nodding, Kame agrees. “All right.”

He’s taken aback when Nakamaru grabs his shoulders. “I am so sorry, Kazuya.”

“Not as sorry as me,” Kame replies, then turns to leave.

—–

Kame has done a lot of difficult things in his life, but turning down Nakamaru for sex is probably the worst. At first he sees a flash of rage in Nakamaru’s eyes, and for a second Kame thinks he’s actually going to get violent, but then his expression relaxes and he steps away. Silently.

His heart breaking, Kame watches the other man leave his hotel room and trudge down the hallway. He tries to think logically, but his brain isn’t having any of that right now. All he wants is Nakamaru, any way he can take him, and he wants to kick himself for turning him away. At the same time, that’s what Nakamaru had told him to do, so he’s torn.

He’s already flinging off the sheet and obtaining some semblance of dress before he realizes he’s actually going to go after him. Quietly he heads to Nakamaru’s hotel room, where the door is ajar and Kame frowns. Is he expecting someone? Is he expecting  _him_?

The noises start before he even has the door cracked, low grunts that can’t be mistaken for anything other than what they are, and Kame quietly closes the door behind him as he steps into the room. Whether it was meant for him or not, curiosity overrides all else and Kame peeks around the corner, kneeling down to remain unseen.

His eyes widen at the sight before him, blinking a few times like it’s going to fade. Or, more specifically, the two Nakamarus before him will morph into one. It made sense that Nakamaru would be pleasuring himself, and while that’s technically still the case, Kame never considered the possibility that there were  _two_  of them. Why would he? This is something that only happens in science fiction movies.

Nakamaru has a  _clone_. Kame wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t looking at them both, in action so to speak, though admittedly the incredulity of the situation isn’t the reason he can’t look away. He’s spent a lot of time getting to know Nakamaru’s body in the past couple weeks and now he sees  _two_  of everything – that lean back, those lengthy arms, his skin that seems to glisten in the dim light of the lamp next to the bed. Kame watches the Nakamaru on top curl his fingers around the cock of the one on bottom, mouths fused together in oblivious passion, and lust replaces the confusion in his mind.

If this were a movie, Kame would stand up and walk over to them, inviting himself between them. He imagines one Nakamaru in front of him and one behind him, surrounding him from every angle and overcoming him with their combined closeness. Four of those hands on him, touching him everywhere. It would be more than just a threesome, he thinks as his hand massages the bump in his sweatpants. It would be completion.

From the way the Nakamaru on top is moving, Kame suspects him to be the clone. It’s familiar to the movements done to Kame himself in his own hotel room – bold, dominant – while the Nakamaru underneath is more timid and still. He lifts a shaky arm to grab onto the other one’s back, arching from the stimulation, and Kame shoves his hand right into his pants when the real Nakamaru moans beautifully.

Kame’s not going to last very long, not with this live-action fantasy porn in front of him, and he holds it off until the clone shifts on top of Nakamaru to align their lengths together, fisting them both in one hand. Nakamaru comes first and it’s all over, Kame stuffing his wrist in his mouth to keep from being heard as he spills over his fingers. His eyes immediately dart over to the pair  to see if he’d been noticed, but the clone seems focused on Nakamaru, whose skin is completely flushed as his chest visibly rises and falls. Kame sees the shiny spots of semen joined by the clone’s release and feels his cock twitch, ignoring it as he gathers his bearings to sneak out.

As he creeps towards the door, he feels eyes on him.

—–

“I want you both,” he says firmly, pushing Nakamaru’s – clone’s – hair out of his eyes, pouting for effect.

“You can’t have that,” Nakamaru replies, leaning down to press thick lips to his jaw. “We’re really the same person, he and I. I’m just his fun side.”

“What do you mean?” Kame asks, a little distracted at the way those hands are drifting aimlessly along his chest and hips.

“It’s no secret the guy’s a big prude,” Nakamaru goes on, and it’s so strange to hear him talk about  _himself_  like that. “I guess you could say that I’m his suppressed sex drive.”

“That explains a lot,” Kame mutters, moaning as fingers trail along his inner thighs, effectively spreading them. “Why me?”

“He’s in love with you,” Nakamaru answers, and Kame’s heart skips a beat. “We share the same memories and feelings, though he doesn’t know what I get up to. He doesn’t even know I exist.”

“But I saw you-”

“And I saw you.” A chuckle presses into Kame’s throat, and Kame stretches his neck to give Nakamaru more access. “I knew it was his fault you turned me away, so I took it out on him. For all he knows, he had a wet dream.”

Kame swallows hard as fingers graze his balls. “That’s kind of fucked up. I feel like I’m cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if we’re the  _same person_ ,” Nakamaru points out. “It’s either this or nothing. Your choice.”

Kame responds by seeking out Nakamaru’s mouth, silencing him with his tongue. It’s distracting enough for both of them and Kame gives into the sensations once again, knowing that this will be the last time.

He returns Nakamaru’s – the real one’s – feelings, and regardless of exact-match DNA clones, the only one he wants is  _him_.

—–

“Nakamaru, let’s hang out tomorrow,” Kame says excitedly as they pack up to go home.  _Finally_.

To say Nakamaru looks surprised is an understatement. He nearly drops all of his bags and bangs his knee on the table as he turns around to face Kame. “Well, okay,” he says evenly. “But…”

“Hmm?” Kame asks, slinging his own bag over his shoulder. He yearns for his own bed so badly.

Nakamaru sucks his lips into his mouth before speaking. “I thought you were going to call me by my first name?”

His heartbeat in his ears, Kame does his best to remain nonchalant. “Do you want me to?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Nakamaru’s smile is infectious, and all Kame can do is hope that his own grin isn’t too creepy. “All right then. See you tomorrow, Yuichi.”

Nobody visits Kame in (his own) bed that night, and that just makes him want it more.

—–

This is by every definition a date. They’d met for lunch, done a bit of shopping, and caught a movie, and the whole time Kame feels like a fourteen-year-old girl out with her crush. He doesn’t actually know any fourteen-year-old girls, but he imagines there’s a lot of internal freaking out over whether he’s going to hold her hand or not. Ordinarily Kame wouldn’t expect Nakamaru to do such a thing, but after what the clone had told him, Kame notices little quirks about Nakamaru’s behavior.

For instance, Nakamaru keeps his distance from Kame. For years Kame had thought that was just because they were so close in front of the cameras. Koki especially lounges on Nakamaru all the time and he doesn’t seem to mind. There’s also the matter of Nakamaru not exactly looking him in the eyes. He’ll look just to the left or stare at something in front of them instead. And, most of all, he’s so quiet and calm in his speaking like he’s using all of his concentration to appear unaffected by Kame’s closeness.

He also hasn’t mentioned their confrontation last week, and Kame doubts he ever will. Nakamaru’s not an instigator. If Kame was ignoring him, maybe he would say something, but only as a last resort. Kame wouldn’t ignore him anyway; he has a responsibility to the group above all else.

It’s that responsibility, he realizes, that has kept Nakamaru from taking that step before now. Even though Junno and Koki are probably doing it – or  _because_ they are. Kame spares a thought of pity toward Ueda if the rest of his group is secretly dating each other.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, and Nakamaru freezes. Definitely hiding something. “Let’s go drink at my place. I got a new historical documentary before we left to tour.”

That’s a lie, but Nakamaru doesn’t seem to care. The ride to Kame’s neighborhood is long and he’s very aware of Nakamaru’s close proximity as they ride the crowded train. It’s almost as if they haven’t yet been together, which they technically haven’t. He may have already had Nakamaru’s body, but not this personality.

When they get back to Kame’s apartment, all he wants to do is throw him up against the nearest surface and kiss him senseless, but he resists. “About those night visits…” he starts, trailing off as Nakamaru cringes.

“They stopped, right?” Nakamaru asks quickly, then flushes bright red. “I mean, I think they did.”

“It was a dream,” Kame blurts out, less casual than he would have liked, but he’s not the world’s best liar either. “I actually woke up in the middle of it when someone called me. I’m so sorry for accusing you of that.”

Nakamaru blinks at him, then tilts his head in confusion. “It was?”

“Yeah.” Kame shrugs. “My overactive imagination telling me I need to get laid, clearly.”

The relieved sigh Nakamaru heaves makes it worth the lie. “I’m so glad. I was so mad at myself for doing that to you. I mean, we’re not even… we’re not.”

“Do you want to be?” Kame asks quietly as he plays with his fingers, letting his nervousness show to make Nakamaru feel more comfortable.

“No, I mean, I don’t-” Nakamaru abruptly falls silent at Kame’s fallen expression. “Do you?”

“A little, yeah.”

Kame can almost see Nakamaru’s internal battle with himself, which has Kame’s heart soaring because he’s  _considering_  it. Suddenly he stops, staring at Kame’s face, and Kame belatedly realizes he’s been licking his lips in thought. He has to actively stop himself from jumping for joy, because Nakamaru’s thinking about  _kissing_  him.

“It wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot, right?” Kame pushes, taking one step closer and watching Nakamaru inch back towards the wall. “It’s just me.”

“It’s just you,” Nakamaru repeats. “Kame. Kazuya.”

Those gorgeous eyes widen as Kame gets closer, but he only lifts his chin as far as Nakamaru’s shoulder. His arms wrap around Nakamaru’s upper back while Nakamaru’s tentatively rest on Kame’s hips, then overlap behind him to complete the hug. As seconds pass and Kame just holds him tighter, Nakamaru relaxes and melts into his arms, presumably giving in to his feelings as he sighs happily in Kame’s ear.

Then Kame leans back, smiling up at him, and speaks the words he refused to say to any imposters: “I love you, Yuichi.”

Nakamaru’s stare softens, hands grasping at Kame’s waist like he wants to pull him even closer, and Kame’s about to oblige when suddenly those lips are on his again. Again, but nothing like before, light and trembling and Kame lifts a hand to his face, feeling that stubble under his thumb and kissing him over and over until Nakamaru  _finally_  drops his guard and kisses him back. It’s like something was unleashed inside Nakamaru –  _his suppressed sex drive_  – and Kame’s the one who harshly breaks the kiss, taking a step back.

Just looking at Nakamaru makes him want to go right back to where he’d been, what they’d been doing to leave his lips shining and swollen with a heaving chest. But it’s his eyes that have Kame returning back to his mouth, that sad look of rejection that Kame never wants to see again, and all he can do is hope that the two Nakamarus have fused back into one as Nakamaru gradually takes control of their kiss.

Kame’s backed up to his couch and lifted up onto it, his body on fire as he tugs at Nakamaru’s clothes. Nakamaru seems just as rushed as Kame and gets caught in his shirt, smacking Kame in the face with his arm and knocking him backwards over the back of the couch. He lands on the cushions and looks up at Nakamaru leaning over the edge, eyes concerned and very embarrassed, but Kame just reaches out to pull him down.

Nakamaru’s body feels even better on top of him when it’s frantic, scrambling to rid them both of the obstructions keeping them from being skin to skin. He makes the sweetest noise when his erection bumps Kame’s thigh, and Kame instantly reaches down to take it in hand, eliciting more of those noises as Nakamaru splays his hands all over Kame’s chest like he doesn’t know where to touch first. Kame helps him out by pressing a tube of lubricant into his hand, smiling when he gasps at the realization of what it is.

“Kazuya!” he exclaims. “Are you sure?”

“Make my dreams come true,” Kame teases, but Nakamaru just kisses him harder as he coats his fingers. His touch is slow yet firm, gentle circles on Kame’s rim to ease the muscle before slipping inside, and Kame feels more of an emotional arousal from the gesture. “You’re so careful with me,” he observes.

“Because I love you,” Nakamaru whispers into their kiss, and Kame lets himself fall completely. Maybe next time he’ll remind Nakamaru that he can take it rougher, get him to fuck him hard, but for now he’ll enjoy the slow lovemaking that he hasn’t yet experienced with him. It really is like their first time together.

Nakamaru takes his time preparing Kame, making him arch and twist with the sporadic prods inside him, until needy, high-pitched whines are spilling from Kame’s lips and it would be embarrassing if it was anyone but Nakamaru. Nakamaru’s mouth doesn’t leave his skin, peppering his neck and collarbone with wet kisses as those fingers open him up, and just when Kame doesn’t think he can wait any longer, Nakamaru’s touch leaves him.

“Yuichi,” he says, almost a whimper, and his next breath is stolen by Nakamaru’s kiss. His legs are lifted over Nakamaru’s shoulders, Nakamaru’s lean body settling on top of him and something familiar and foreign at the same time poking between his legs.

He expects Nakamaru to say something, anything, but all he does is push inside and the only sounds after that are nonsensical. Kame’s mind lessens with each of Nakamaru’s moans, pressed against his lips and then his jaw as Kame tosses his head back from the first proper thrust. His own moan is strangled, his hands grasping for purchase on Nakamaru’s biceps that contract as he pins Kame’s legs to his chest.

Nakamaru fucks him slow, with sharp snaps of his hips that push him in deeper. Kame wants to tell him how good it is, how much he loves it, but he can’t speak and he doesn’t think Nakamaru can either with as much as he’s doing to  _breathe_. His body trembles, their skin sliding together from the sweat of their combined efforts and Kame reaches for Nakamaru’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he brings it down his chest to his aching cock.

The first touch has Nakamaru gasping, struggling to push through Kame’s tightening body, and Kame urges their hands up and down his length. He feels it start to come and pulls Nakamaru back to his mouth, their kiss more breaths and moans than actual kissing but it doesn’t matter as long as they’re close. Nakamaru takes over and squeezes Kame from base to tip, twisting his wrist on the head and Kame’s orgasm hits him hard, leaving him jerking and groaning out Nakamaru’s first name as Nakamaru pulls him off.

Then Nakamaru grabs him by the hips, pulling him up with each thrust down, and few things are more beautiful than the sound he makes when he comes, still shaking even after Kame holds him close.

Across the room, Kame can swear he sees the other Nakamaru disintegrate into thin air, and wonders if he was ever really there in the first place.


End file.
